Quid Pro Quos
by TC226
Summary: Maron is an ER surgeon whose past failures continue to haunt him. Ginger is an Garchomp-Human hybrid who struggles to find love and a sense of belonging in her hectic world. The two come from completely different backgrounds, yet they both need each other, they just don't know it yet.
1. Chapter 1: Troubled Past

**Chapter One**

Quid Pro Quos

Anthro Garchomp Female x Human Male

It happens to every ER surgeon. It is inevitable, it is a hard fact that one has to realize sooner or later once they begin their gruesome work: not every patient will live. It's sad, perhaps morbid or cruel, but it is true. No ER surgeon is perfect and not every patient can be saved. I lost my first patient two hours ago.

The operation was an emergency amputation of her left leg; she had been partially run-over by her neighbor's tractor-mower, shearing off her ankle, shattering the rest of her limb, causing massive trauma and blood loss.

Ginger was too young to have to need the emergency room. She told me, as we wheeled her towards the emergency room, that she was already five years old and could read "big-kid books" like her older brother. She reminded me of my niece who was also the same age, and that was my critical error: I became emotionally attached to Ginger. I saw my niece in Ginger's long brown hair and rosy cheeks, they shared the same smile and it killed me. Her smile did not stay for very long, though.

Her once relatively cheery self was replaced with a quivering mess of fear, pain, and worry. The effects of the morphine must've been wearing off. Her expression made it seem like she was going to die, she begged me to save her. I told her what I could to try to ease her nerves. I told her that she'd be all right, in response to which she asked, "am I gonna die?" My heart sank. She was going to die regardless of what I did; she had lost too much blood and the stress was too much on her heart and body, but I couldn't tell her that. "No, Ginger, you will not. I won't let that happen."

The last time Ginger's lips moved, before we had even made it to the emergency room doors, she asked me something that will haunt me forever: "Why did you lie to me?" She flatlined.

Two Years Later ...

(Flashback)

'"Am I gonna die?"

"I won't let that happen."

"But you did, Maron, you failed...Why did you lie to me?"'

"Aaah!" I sat bolt upright, my heart ready to leap out of my chest. Relax, I told myself, it was just a dream. These nightmares have been going on for two years; it never changes, I am trying to keep Ginger as relaxed as possible, trying to rush her to be emergency room, but my legs feel like stone and she is rapidly getting worse and she dies before I can help her, her haunting words echoing in my mind.

I need to get my mind off of this. It was already eight AM, so I figured it was about time for me to get up anyways, and I started up my usual routine of eggs over-hard and wheat toast with a glass of OJ. After that, I got changed into some outdoor clothes and grabbed my shotgun case and the ATV keys with my name, Maron Gretzky, etched into them. Then, I was ready to do what I always do to rid my mind of troubling thoughts: I go shooting. The benefit of living in the upper peninsula of Michigan is that you can easily find huge plots of land where you can do whatever you want and you'll get no complaints from any neighbors. My 120 acres seemed a bit much at first, but most of it was forested, so I figured I could use the extra land for ATV trails and setting up my own sporting clay course.

When I got all of my stuff together, I loaded up my favorite ATV with all of the shells and clays I may need as well as a sandwich, some jerky, and a few beers. Yep, it's gonna be a great afternoon.

I locked up my cabin doors and shuttered the windows to prevent any wolf or bear related issues and headed out. It was a cool September afternoon, the sun was only partially hidden by some stray clouds, and the escaping rays made the already brightly-colored leaves of the maple and birch trees come alive. I wouldn't give up living here for anything. It was peaceful and quiet, which are qualities that are very hard to find while working as an ER surgeon. I suppose I should have picked a spot that was closer to some sort of a city, but ever since I was a kid, the idea of living in a large cabin out in northern Michigan tantalized my imagination.

The first eleven "holes" of the course went fairly well, I was a decent shot after all. But, halfway through the twelfth course, I heard an ear-piercing scream coming from less than 100 yards away.

"The hell?"

I set my gun down and listened again for any noise, believing that I was simply hearing things, but sure enough, another scream echoed through the forest. I decided to go check it out. Not that I really had much of a choice. It was my land and if anyone got hurt on it, it would sort of be my responsibility.

I slid my twelve gauge back into its sling on my back and revved the ATV engine and road off towards the screeching. I figured it was probably a lost child or a prank or perhaps someone had stepped onto one of the old bear traps that are scattered about the forest (I had been meaning to remove them, but I never could find them all so I just gave up and hoped that I got most of them).

As I a got closer, I began to get this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, telling me that someone was hurt, badly. It was the same feeling I get whenever I see a victim of a motorcycle accident or a severe car crash, this can't be good. When I was within thirty feet of where I thought the noise came from, I caught a new sound: a quiet whimper. That's bizarre. I dismounted my ATV and unholstered my Glock 9mm that I always kept on me, just in case. I came into a small clearing and near the center was a pile of rubble. I didn't see anything yet, so I walked around the pile, and what I found wasn't human, but it wasn't animal either.

The best way I can describe its features is a cross between a shark, a woman, and a dragon. I assumed it was a she because of the above-average-sized breasts visible from beneath her ripped sweatshirt. She was dark blue all over her body (from what I could see through the many holes in her sweatshirt) except her front which was red at her chest and torso, and yellow at her waist. She appeared to be about seven and a half feet tall and was rather well built, though I wouldn't call her ripped. Her hips were wide and curvy and above her buttocks, she had a four foot tail which was also covered in rough dark blue flesh and ended in a crescent-shaped fin. Her arms and hands represented those of a human up until the fingertips which ended in five sharp, steely-grey claws. Her legs were strong and smooth, which tapered down to slender but powerful calves, and then two narrow feet that had three razor-sharp claws instead of toes. On top of her thighs, she had several spikes which arose only a few inches off of her skin but still looked like they could inflict some serious damage. Similar spikes were on her shoulders and down her back. Both the spikes and her claws seemed to be made up of that same shiny steely substance.

Between her shoulder-blades rested a dorsal fin that curved much like a shark's. Her bottom jaw was the same bright red as her chest, and I could easily see several rows of vicious teeth flash at me whenever she gasped for air. Her face was the same dark blue as the rest of her body, save for a large yellow star shaped mark on her nose. Personally, I thought it looked a little out of place on such a threatening creature.

Her eyes were hypnotic. Her whites were jet black and her irises were an entrancing yellow with narrow black slits for pupils. Adjacent to her temple on either side of her head, she had small oblong projections which made her appearance similar to that of a hammerhead shark.

Overall, she looked extremely deadly, I'm glad I brought my gun. At this point, she was staring directly at me with what I had to assume was an expression of extreme pain and desperation. I had forgotten to look at what was troubling her, when I did, I kicked myself for not clearing away all of the traps.

Her left leg was ensnared in two bear traps, one on her ankle/calf and one on her thigh. Both of the wounds were bleeding profusely and it looked like her ankle may be smashed. Her hands and forearms were bloodied from trying to pull away the traps, but they were so rusty and tight, that removing them would have been impossible without a crowbar. I had to help her.

Without bothering to think about it first, I ran to her side and began to assess the extent of her injury when I was greeted with a loud, threatening, growl and a flash of her teeth. I jumped back. I raised my hands and slowly walked back over towards her, not breaking eye contact. She continued to growl and snarl at me, but soon grew quieter as I set my gun down, and knelt in front of her, my right hand outstretched to her. Calmly, I said, "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you. I am here to help you."

She still stayed tense, but the growling stopped. I set my right hand down on the trap and my left on her leg and she yelped in pain swatting my hand away with her clawed hand.

"I am going to have to touch it if I'm going to be able to take it off of you. Do you understand?"

She looked at me with fearful eyes and then looked away from the rusty teeth stuck into her legs. I took that as a yes.

Running back to the ATV, I grabbed my emergency first aid kit and my crowbar. Using the kit, I was able to disinfect and bandage most of her wounds on her arms. Then, I moved onto her leg. Using the crowbar to pry open the steel jaws, I gently lifted her thigh out of the trap's toothy grip all the while she was grimacing and gasping at the pain it was causing her. The worst part would be pulling her ankle out of the trap. Most, if not all, of the bones were shattered and she would likely have exposed nerves being pinched and cut by the chips of bone. It had to be done though.

"Not gonna lie," I said. "This is gonna hurt. Ready?"

She nodded.

I quickly pried open the jaws and slid her ankle out of the way, her body convulsing with pain.

I eased her ankle down on the ground and gently rubbed disinfectant and anti-inflammatory gels over her busted ankle.

She winced and glared at me with a look of hate.

"Okay, that's all. I'm done."

To my surprise, she responded in English. "Th-Thank you..."

"I would like to take you back to my home; there you will be safe and I will be able to fix you up, would you be okay with that?"

"Well, I guess... But I can't walk."

"You won't have to, we'll ride there."

And so, I lifted her up onto her one good leg and helped her over to the ATV. It was a bit awkward at first, but eventually, I was able to get her secured on the back seat and still squeeze myself in front.

"We are going to go pretty fast, so you may want to wrap your arms around my waist, we wouldn't want you to fall off."

"Oh... Okay..." she seemed even more scared now that we were on the four wheeler and she promptly got a dead-lock around my waist as I started up the engine.

"Don't worry," I assured her. "I won't let you fall."

It took only a few minutes to get back to the cabin and I left the ATV outside as I rushed her into the lab I had in the basement. It was all state-of-the-art, given to me by a grateful patient who said that the new tech should help me save more lives in the future. He was right. Using me as a crutch, she was able to walk down the stairs, trailing a line of blood, and I laid her down on one of the operating tables.

This wasn't going to be an easy task. Her left leg, below the knee would definitely have to be amputated, her thigh might be able to be saved, she had various broken ribs from who knows what and many (what appeared to be) whip scars on her back. Hmmmm.

"I feel that you should know that whatever I am going to do is to save your life: your left leg below the knee will need to be taken off. The impact of the trap shattered all bones therein and it will only become infected if it's not removed. Your thigh portion should be able to stay, but you will have to have major muscle rehab and blood transfusions. All in all, this operation is going to take a while and will require me to put you under for some time."

"Master, what do you mean 'put me under'?" she said with a fearful look.

"I am just going to give you some medicine that will make you go to sleep so you won't feel anything while I am operating on you."

"Master, may I ask you something?"

"Sure. And call me Maron, if you would, "master" seems a little odd to me."

"Am I going to die?" She started to tear up and my heart sank.

Her simple question struck a chord with me. My mind raced back years ago where that same question was asked of me with the same expression of fear and anxiety.

"No," I said. "I won't let that happen."

She briefly smiled back at me, tears welling up in her shimmering eyes.

"Do you have a name?" I asked, trying to take her mind off of the impending operation.

"Yes, my old master called me Ginger."

No freakin' way.

I promised myself that I wouldn't fail this time. God had given me a second chance and I was not going to miss it.

End Of Chapter One


	2. Chapter 2: Ginger's Story

The procedure went without any major issues, though I did have to find a blood type that didn't react with hers, and to my surprise, I found that only my type (O-) worked. I thought to myself: "This is starting to freak me out now. Why are there so many connections between me and this creature?"

When Ginger awoke, several hours after I had amputated her leg and stitched up her wounds, she immediately reached down to her left thigh to find that it was still there. With a sigh of relief, Ginger laid back down, a slight smile appeared on her face as she thanked me then dozed off as the morphine kicked back in. She was going to need as much rest as she could get.

While she was sleeping, I began working on a prosthetic that could be attached to her nervous system and could function as a biological leg would. Thankfully, I had all of the equipment to assemble the prosthesis, otherwise I would have to take Ginger to a public hospital, and that was out of the question. I will do anything for her to ensure her recovery and safety, but if it means exposing her to the outside world, I would not do it. Imagine what scientists would do to her: biopsies while she is still conscious, countless tests which would put her through immense amounts of stress and pain, she would not survive it; Ginger may be strong, but I fear that she would not be strong enough.

Several Months Later...

It had been some time since her operation, and I was finding that I was becoming more and more attached to her, so much so that I contemplated asking her to stay with me from now on, but I still didn't have the guts to ask her.

Through our weeks spent together, I found out more about what her life was like before she ran into me. It was heartbreaking. Apparently, she was living in a remote location in the "rabbit-ear" of the upper peninsula where she was beaten and whipped by her owner, a brutish drinker who had beaten and lost his children in a lawsuit filed against him by his wife. Alone, save for Ginger who was like the family pet (and was a great friend to the children but was left out of the divorce settlement for the same reasons that I didn't take her to a hospital), he took out his rage on her. Having been raised by him since she was a young girl, she didn't know any different, and so, she never stood up for herself. [Ginger never told me how she came into this world, she never knew her parents, and she never met anyone else like her. She believes that she is a freak who doesn't belong here, I believe that she is an angel, sent into my life to bring me out of my depression. Either way, Ginger is very special and she has brought a lot of positive changes to my life.] But, one night, her father got too drunk and he tried to force Ginger to have sex with him. She didn't know how to fight back. All her life, she had been subjugated to his torturous ways and all she did was cower in fear as he approached her, knife in hand. Before he penetrated her, he cut her over and over along her back and arms, finding pleasure in the sound of her screams of pain and fear. He tied her arms and legs together and threw her down onto the bed so that her knees were touching the floor. She was only twelve at this point (or at least that's how old she thought she was), and her body had not yet really developed, so she was never made to wear any clothes other than a small pair of shorts that had a hole in the back where her tail fit through. Her "master" used the knife to sloppily cut off her shorts and underwear, cutting her in the process. Ginger figured out what was going to happen to her if she didn't escape, but she still didn't have the willpower to defend herself. Her butt was completely exposed, and her master wasted no time. He unzipped his jeans and placed his tip right at the entrance to her puckered tail-hole. He thrusted into her without any kind of lubrication to soften the blow. Ginger's body was racked with pain.

"Pl-please, don't do this! You're going to tear me apart!" Ginger screamed at him, trying ineffectively to make him stop, her insides burning and beginning to bleed. With tears streaming down her face, she tried to fight back, but her hands were tied behind her back and her legs were pinned down by her master's weight as well as being tied with heavy rope. It was useless. She took the pain until he finished, his cum filling her ravaged hole. He pulled out and turned her over onto her back so that she could see the look of menacing pleasure on his face.

"Now you're gonna clean it off, bitch!" He laughed as he said it, making Ginger quiver with fear. Roughly, he pulled her up to his cock. She tried to pull her head away, but he was stronger than her and he forced her mouth open. Grabbing onto the protrusions on either side of her head, he shoved his cock all the way into her mouth, making her choke on it. She struggled to breathe, trying to pull her head back, but he held her firmly in place and slammed back and forth inside her mouth. She was losing all sight of any hope for escape, when the thought occurred to her: she had razor-sharp teeth and her ignorant master had just stuck his member in her mouth. She waited until he had thrusted back in all the way before she clamped down on him, severing his flesh and causing him to shriek in pain. He fell forward on the bed and lay there, passed out from the pain. Ginger spat his member out, and used the knife he dropped to cut the bindings on her hands and feet. Once free, she stood over his unconscious body, claws poised to rip his head off. She placed her claws around his neck, heartbeat pounding in her head, and paused. If she killed this bastard of a man, that would make her no better than him. She could just leave him to his own misery and be freed of his tyrannical reign forever. She slowly slid her arms back to her sides, left the room, and shut the door. She addressed the cuts on her arms by cleaning them and wrapping them in makeshift bandages from kitchen towels. She couldn't reach her back, and she knew that those knife wounds would just scar over like the whip marks. Her bowels were still burning, thankfully there were a few things she could do to help herself. She washed her insides out with cold water from the shower, and rubbed anti-inflammatory jelly in and around her ravaged tail-hole. She packed away the jelly and some more towels for bandages and began to stock up her hiking pack that she found in the garage. Within minutes, Ginger was heading down the winding road that connected the rough asphalt road to the shabby dirt driveway of the old, depressing house. She had gathered as much food and supplies as she could carry in the hiking pack, as well as all of the money in her master's wallet and safe. She didn't really need any clothes, but it was getting close to fall and the temperatures could get vey cold at night, so she threw a couple sweatshirts, some jeans, and several t-shirts into the mix. For almost nine years, Ginger roamed about the forests of the UP, stealing food, clothes, and other supplies from camps and cabins. It was mere chance that led her to my neck of the woods, had she not been trapped, she would have continued on like that for the rest of her life, alone, wandering vast expanses of land. But I was here, and I will never let any harm come to her.

"Ginger, breakfast is almost ready," I called down the hallway.

"Okay, I'll be right there!"

Though we never discussed it much, Ginger and I have become very close over these past months, not like lovers, of course, or anything that intimate, however, I have found that Ginger has been hugging me with much more gusto and increasing frequency; I didn't think much of it. Perhaps I wanted to make our relationship into something more; I was already thinking of gifts to get her for Christmas and Christmas was another month away! I just cared so much for her, and it felt that the feeling was mutual, but neither she nor I had the nerves to say anything.

"Good morning, Maron!"

"Good morning to you too, Ginger! How are you feeling?" She was still on crutches, for now at least, but I was planning on giving her her prosthetic leg for Christmas (I kept thinking of Tiny Tim from A Christmas Carol whenever she hobbled into a room, but I thought it was best if I didn't tell her that).

"I feel great!" She said with a smile. "Whatcha makin'?"

"Well, I figured I would make something special seeing as it is a certain someone's birthday today," I smiled at her as she blushed. "Happy Birthday, Ginger!"

"Thank you, but you know I hate it when you make me feel special!"

"Yeah right! You know you love the extra attention," I added with a smirk. I had my back to her as I was flipping the pancakes, so I didn't see her massive form come hobbling around the counter towards me. With a lunge, and a yelp of surprise from me, she tackled me to the ground. We landed with a "humph" and she rolled on top of me, pinning me down, a playful look on her face.

"You must be getting old," she said to me. "You're not as attentive as you usually are."

"Hey, watch it with the "you're old" stuff, alright? You're only seven years younger than me."

"Yeah, but you are old," she added with a giggle.

"Alright, alright. Can I get up now?"

"No. I haven't thanked you yet."

"For what? I haven't even finished your birthday breakfast, much less given you your presents."

"For taking care of me, and for ... well, for making me feel loved." At that last part, she lowered herself onto me and held me in a warm embrace, her head resting on my shoulder, my body completely dwarfed by her massive form.

This was really sweet. As a defense mechanism, her personality is usually as prickly as the numerous spikes on her body, but this time, her affectionate side was shining through.

She lifted her head up and looked me in the eyes, "Maron, if it weren't for you I'd still be alone, lost with no hope of being taken in by anyone, or worse, I'd be dead."

She let that linger a little too long before continuing: "I can't thank you enough for that." And before I could say anything, she leaned in towards me and gently kissed my lips, a light blush forming on her face. After what felt like an eternity, she pulled away and lifted herself up, gathered her crutches and hobbled off towards the dining room.

"Did that really just happen?" I whispered to myself. "Does she love me the way I love her too?" This I had to find out. But for now, I have a birthday to celebrate. "I'll just pretend that that kiss didn't happen," I told myself.

I finished up the rest of the flapjacks and set 'em on a large serving platter.

"I made you your favorite kind," I said as I carried the tray of raspberry and chocolate pancakes over to where Ginger was sitting. I set the entire tray in front of her eagerly waiting self and set my own plate across from her.

"Whoops, almost forgot the syrup, I'll be right back."

When I came back, Ginger had slid my plate and chair next to her; she was beaming up at me.

"Alright, I guess I can't argue with the birthday girl."

"YAY!" She exclaimed as I sat down next to her.

We prayed and began eating when my cell-phone rang.

"Shoot, what could it possibly be now?" I answered and was surprised to hear Laura, one of the ER nurses, on the other end. "What is it?" I asked hesitantly.

"We need you to work in the ER today."

"I told you guys, I am on vacation for today. Can't Jack handle it?" Jack was a less-popular ER surgeon who would fill in whenever I was gone.

"Jack was supposed to be on call today, but he got in a car accident and won't make it to work for a few weeks at least."

"Ugh, alright, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Great! See you then."

I hung up and looked over towards Ginger who was clearly displeased with me.

"You said you didn't have to work today," she said with a pout. "It's my birthday and you won't be here to spend it with me."

"I'm sorry," I admitted. "But someone else is in need of my help and if I don't go they could become even more hurt. I promise I'll be back before six tonight, okay?"

"Fine," Ginger said, arms crossed. "But don't expect me to be in a good mood, 'cause I won't. How can I celebrate my 21st birthday when I'm all alone?"

"Hmm. How about this: to make it up to you, I'll take you camping at one of my favorite places that I know you'll like. We'll leave tomorrow and stay through weekend, how does that sound?"

"Stuck with you in the middle of a forest for four days? It's gonna be a loooong four days," she rolled her eyes and sighed. Then finally, "I guess I'll go."

"Excellent! I will see you later this evening," I said.

After I had gathered my things, I started walking out the door and I completely screwed up. Turning back towards the doorway where Ginger was leaning, I smiled, waved and said, "love you-" the words caught in my throat, it was a slip of the tongue, I can't believe I said that, I hope she didn't hear me.

"What?" Ginger asked as she poked her head out of the doorway. Oh-no.

"I said 'see ya!'" I replied unconvincingly.

"Oh..." she said to herself. She shut the door after waving to me as I drove off. "I thought he finally said it this time. Oh well, I guess I'll wait until the camping trip," and she finished up her breakfast alone and heartsick.

End of Part Two


	3. Chapter 3: Could You be Loved?

At the hospital, I was scheduled to operate at nine thirty, but I showed up to the room a good half hour early to make sure everything was set up correctly. Already in the room were Laura and a few of the other nurses who apparently had nothing else better to do than gossip about their relationships. I figured this time I actually had a viable question for them.

"Hey Laura, I have a question for you."

"Well?"

"Let's just say that a patient of a doctor is in a serious condition and the doctor helps him or her out. The patient is obviously grateful, but seems to express more intimate gratitude than usual," I paused, carefully planning how to word his next part.

"Yes? Go on." Laura and her associates were quite intrigued at this point as I have never taken part in their inane rumor-telling.

"Is it possible that there may exist actual "love-like" feelings, or is it just misplaced thankfulness that would only last for a short while?"

"Wow, that seems rather specific for a general question, and yet it's enticing. Maron, if you're doctor-friend saved someone's life, chances are, that person is going to fall for him simply because of what he did. It's called "compensation love". Basically, the patient feels the need to pay his or her doctor back for what they did and so they develop an emotional attraction to said doctor or caretaker, even if those feelings are false and fleeting."

"Ah, I see." So Ginger doesn't actually care for me, she just feels that she owes me something in return for saving her? Well that sucks. I must've looked a little dejected because Laura and her friends gave me questioning looks.

"Were you hoping that an adoring patient had the hots for you?" she said with a sly grin and a chuckle, the rest of the nurses joined in.

"Very funny. Now, let's make sure we know what we need to do today; go through the process, verbally, one more time..."

Later That Evening...

"Hey Ginger, I'm home." No response. I figured as much. She is probably still upset at me for skipping out on her birthday celebration.

"Ginger, where are you? I'm sorry, I know I'm late, but I brought you something."

That's when I heard her sluggish crutch-steps and the scrape of her tail on the wood floor echo up the hallway.

"Oh, great, you're finally back. Not that I missed you or anything." Her usually sarcastic self was back, her previously cheery mood replaced by a mopey, sorrowful shell.

"Glad to see you're still staying positive," I retorted. "Do you want to open your gifts or not?"

"Sure, I've been waiting long enough for them anyways."

With a mournful sigh, she sat herself down on the couch and propped her leg up. She was dressed in her favorite outfit: ripped blue jeans and a white t-shirt with a dark grey hoodie. Her dorsal and forearm fins stuck through the fabric, making her appearance even more rugged.

"Looking very sexy, Ginger," I remarked with a sarcastic grin.

"Oh shut it!" She told me. "Let's get this done and over with so I can get a reasonable amount of sleep tonight."

She may be in a crappy mood now, but my gifts are gonna make her melt.

The first of the two boxes was very large, about a three foot cube of cardboard, and contained an assortment of new jeans with holes already in the knees and various brighter colored sweatshirts.

"I see I am pretty easy to buy for, huh?" A smile creeped its way onto her face, but quickly dashed away once she saw that I noticed.

The next gift was a small rectangular box with a card attached to it. The card read:

Dear Ginger,

I have only known you for a few months, but in that time, I have grown to know you better and better and I've found that you are incredibly kind, caring, humorous, strong, intelligent, creative, all characteristics of a truly good person. By now, you are healed up enough to venture back out on your own, and I won't stop you. It is your choice and yours alone. That being said, my life would not be nearly as exciting and full as it has been when you are with me. I would like it very much if you stayed with me, however, it is up to you, and I would understand completely if you decided to go your own way.

Inside this box is a token for you to keep always so that you may remember me and so that you may know that my home will always be open to you. Happy Birthday Ginger!

Your friend, now and always,

Maron

She was already choked up by the letter, but when she opened the box, she fell into sobs. Inside was a sterling silver Silpoda necklace with an angel pendant. The angel had small type etched into the back of its wings:

"You will always be my angel -MG"

I helped her put it around her neck, and noticed that she was trembling.

"Are you alright?" I asked, sitting back down next to her.

"I-I'm fine... *snf* Do y-you really m-mean what you *snf* wrote in that card?"

"Yep. Every word."

She didn't say anything, but instead leaned over to where I was sitting next to her and planted a strong kiss on my lips.

"Maron, you make me feel special and loved and you are always there for me. I am very lucky to have you with me."

She slid over to me and cuddled up against my side. I was overjoyed, but then I remembered what Laura had said and my heart dropped. None of this was real, it was only compensation for what I did for her.

"Happy Birthday, Ginger," I said, my thoughts drifting towards a slightly depressive mood on account of Ginger's fake love.

"You are the greatest friend that anyone could ask for! It was the best birthday I've ever had."

We fell asleep on the couch, Ginger's head resting in my lap. "I have to end this soon," I thought. "Or I may lose my sanity."


	4. Chapter 4: A Hiking Trip And Worse

I awoke to find Ginger still curled up around me, her head now resting on my chest, and a sweet smile written across her face.

"Good morning sleeping beauty," I said softly.

"Hmm?" She looked up at me and yawned, then curled up tighter, embracing me and wrapping her arms and legs around me, her tail ensnaring my ankles, and fell back asleep.

"Well," I said to myself. "Looks like I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

Maybe she did really, truly, love me. I mean, she's practically glued to me and has been like that for a while, so maybe Laura was wrong. I hoped so.

"Hey, Ginger?"

"Mmmf... Wha?" She responded with a tired, questioning look.

"We gotta get ready for the camping trip, and you kinda have me pinned down."

"Oh, sorry. Here, give me sec'." With no grace whatsoever, she loosened her grip on me and rolled off of the couch with a thud, her arms stretching, and back cracking as she let out a tooth-filled yawn and just lay there.

"Thanks," I said, getting up and offering her my hand. She took it and I helped her up and kept her steady as she limped to her crutches, a disheartened expression forming.

"Maron, this just occurred to me: how can I go on a camping/hiking trip with you when I can hardly get around without my crutches?"

"I'm glad you asked," I said with a smile. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

I hurried down to my lab and grabbed a rectangular box wrapped in red and green wrapping paper.

"Ya know, I was going to give this to you for Christmas, but I figured now would be as good of a time as any." And with that, I placed the box in her arms and she sat down on the floor, legs crossed (as best as she could), and eyes filled with wonder.

She tore off the wrapping quite easily and lifted the lid. Inside was what looked like a stainless steel replica of her left leg, the hydraulics visible through the shiny plates.

"What the heck is this?"

"It is a prosthetic leg. It will allow you to walk and run and do whatever it is you would usually do when you had both of you legs. Here, let me help you."

I sat down with her and rolled her jeans up, exposing the stump where her leg used to be. Then, taking the replacement limb in one hand, and her thigh in the other, I connected the two and switched the nerve-sensors on.

"Ginger, try to move your toes," I instructed as I began to calibrate the machine.

"But how can I-"

"Just do it," I said.

"Okaaayy."

She paused for a moment, but then she gasped when she saw the claws on the metal limb wiggle as she commanded them to do.

"This is amazing!" she exclaimed. "How is this possible?"

"I could go into the boring scientific jargon which would undoubtedly bore and confuse you, but let's just say that when you try to move your body, your brain sends out signals to your limbs, and this mechanical limb picks up those signals just like a normal leg would. That way, you won't have to train yourself to use this thing, it will be as if you never lost your leg in the first place."

Her eyes were once again teary; she barely got out a muffled "thank you".

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I-I just can't believe all t-that you do for me, and would do for me, you really must care for me." And she hesitantly grabbed the back of the couch and stood up. She was a little shaky, but she soon stabilized herself and walked over to where I was sitting. With little effort, Ginger lifted me up into her arms and hugged me tight to her chest, a huge smile warmed its way onto her face. .

"Hey Ginger?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"Can you let me down now, we have to go pack."

"Sure, right..."

The rest of the morning went without a hitch; we packed four day's worth of clothes and food, grabbed some breakfast, and loaded up the truck. I had also packed my twelve gauge, just in case we ran into some pumas whilst hiking. Although, I'm pretty sure that Ginger could take them out without breaking a sweat.

We arrived at the small dirt entrance to the park, and found that we were the only ones there, not surprising, as it was late November and frosts commonly coat the stony ground in the wee hours of the morning which usually deter most campers.

"Welcome to the beautiful Clareville County Park, located in picturesque Kentucky!"

Ginger sneered at me with a look of sheer contempt.

"Maron, don't you think that it's a little too chilly to be camping?"

"No, not at all. I brought plenty warm clothes and an extra large thermal sleeping bag. Plus, the tent is completely wind and waterproof, so we should be pretty set." I paused briefly. "You're not having any second thoughts are you? You still want to do this?"

"Suuuure," Ginger replied with a slow nod.

"Okay. We'd better get going if we want to make it to the first campsite before nightfall. It is a few miles away, though," I gestured to her leg, "do you think you can make it?"

"Whoa now! Are you calling me weak?!"

"No! Not at all," I said hurriedly. "I just didn't want you to get hurt by overworking your legs. After all, they have atrophied over these few weeks."

"Right," she said dryly. "Let's go."

I locked the car, zipped up the keys in my inner coat pocket, helped Ginger strap on her pack, did the same for mine, and slung the shotgun over my shoulder, ready to fire.

"Why are you bringing that?" Ginger said with a worried look.

"Just to be safe," I replied. "There are a few mountain lions that roam around here (but no one really sees them) and I don't want to get on their bad side without some protection."

Ginger looked hurt. "I can protect you..." she murmured.

"What's that?" I asked, though I already knew what she said.

"Oh, nothing. Can we get going now?"

"Sure," I replied, and we headed off with all our gear and a brittle tension between us.

Two hours later

"Well, we're here!" I cheerily exclaimed, looking around me from the top of the steep hill I'd just scaled. The view was incredible! There was a small, crystal clear lake in the distance with a river leading to it. Bright, inviting flowers carpeted the ground and flowering trees such as pink magnolias lay intermingled with the crisp green of the pine trees.

"Ugh, I hate this trip!" Ginger had just made it to the top of the hill. I had offered to help her, but she was a little too proud to let me. It seemed that she was a bit out of shape, and I thought it odd that someone as trim and muscular as her would have more difficulty climbing a hill than a workaholic surgeon in his late twenties.

"It couldn't have been all that bad," I said with a grin. "I mean, I did it just fine."

"Oh shut up!" her glare was quite evident.

I laughed and began to clear away the leaf cover to make room for our tent.

"Do ya wanna help me make the fire?" I asked.

"Sure," she replied, her mood seeming to have improved a little. "What can I do?"

"Well," I said. "You can help me find some burnable wood. There's got to be lots of that stuff around here, just make sure it isn't too wet."

"Alright," Ginger responded, wandering off into the woods, her tail swaying back and forth over the mossy ground.

"Gosh," I thought to myself. "She really is beautiful. I wish we could've been together."

Likewise, but of course unbeknown to me, Ginger spoke softly, "I wonder what's gotten into him lately; he seems to be kinda depressed. Is it something I did?"

She returned shortly thereafter with an armful of logs and she threw them to the ground and huffed off towards the tent under one of the huge pine trees, she was upset, and I had not a single clue as to why.

I gathered some brush and a few logs and soon had a roaring flame. I set up my steel tripod over the fire and attached the cooking pot to the hooks hanging from the peak of the tripod. Looking back towards the tent, I saw Ginger's tail anxiously thumping on the ground; something was wrong and I'd better talk to her soon before she gets violent. With a sigh, I began to cook our dinner: homemade beef and barley stew, her favorite.

I spread out the coals and kept the stew warm as I left to go see what was bothering my land-shark compatriot. From outside the tent I heard subtle sniffles and I realized that she had been crying this whole time.

"Ginger, you okay in there?" I asked, not wanting to barge in on her while she was crying. Ginger was a very proud woman and never likes it when she seems weak, so I rarely ever see her cry. In fact, the only time that I had seen her cry was when I gave her the angel necklace for her birthday.

"Go away!" She said angrily. "I don't want to talk to you!"

"I just wanted to help. You seemed to be upset and I was worried about you."

"Nice to know you worry about me all the time," she retorted.

"Not like that, Ginger. I meant that I want to make sure that you're feeling alright."

"Whatever..." She replied with a sigh.

"I just-... Ok. Let me know when you want to talk. I'll be out here by the fire," and I let her be.

A few minutes passed and the stew was ready and I figured I'd try again.

Approaching the tent, I joked with her saying, "Hey there, Ms. Grumpy-Gills, ready to come out now? Soup's ready."

Ginger stuck her head out of the tent and glared up at me. "Why won't you just let me be? Why do you talk to me like I'm a kid? I am strong enough to be on my own now and you still treat me like you're my parent." She was getting rather aggravated now. "I'm stronger than you, faster than you, bigger than you, I'm more courageous, and unlike you, I probably would have the guts to tell someone I loved them if it weren't for the fact that there's no one else like me. Furthermore, you're practically my age, so you really can't be my parent. If you were anything you'd be my boyfr-" She stopped herself and looked down, her cheeks blushing wildly.

I was so caught up in what she had said about my inability to express my love, that I had missed that last part.

"What do you mean I don't 'have the guts to tell someone I love them?'" My hands defiantly placed across my chest.

"Well, I..." She lost her previous anger and was now sheepishly avoiding my gaze. "I just... You never really..."

"I never really what?"

"You never really seemed to love me like I loved you," her eyes found mine and I had a hard time meeting her disheartened gaze.

"I-I don't really know what to say, I guess," I said with a scratch of my head, a blush finding its way to me.

She crawled out of the tent and as she walked towards me, I began to hesitantly step back.

"Say that you love me," She said with a sultry grin on her face.

"Whoa now, Ginger, what are you doing?!"

"I know you feel the same way for me. Just be mine, and I'll be yours, and we'll just be happy together. Isn't that what you want?"

"Listen," I said, carefully keeping my distance. "I don't know what's gotten into you. I consider you my friend and if I have misled you into thinking that we are something more than that, then I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," at this point, I was back by the fire and Ginger was still closing in.

"Just tell me you love me," she repeated. "That's all I want to hear."

"I'm your friend, Ginger, don't do this," I warned her.

No sooner had the words spilled out of my mouth that Ginger lunged at me.

Thankfully, she was still emotionally unbalanced so her aim was a little off and I was able to dodge the attack, grab some of my climbing gear (which was resting on one of the logs around the fire) and book it out of camp, with Ginger close behind. I sprinted through the forest, staying parallel to the path so as to not get lost, my lighter form able to clear most of the obstacles, but Ginger didn't fare so well. I could hear her lumbering steps crashing through the brush behind me, and I felt the ground shake when she tripped over a fallen tree and slammed into the earth. Yet, despite all of those obstacles, she still seemed to be gaining on me. Luckily, I only had one hundred yards to go before I would reach the series of caves that are found along the pathway.

Fifty yards to go. Her steps were getting closer and I dared not look behind me. I could already see the cave I was going to use.

Twenty yards. Her claws were reaching out for me but were just snagging my pack. I had to speed up.

Ten yards. Just a few more steps til I'm safe.

I didn't make it.

I had come so close, but I was tackled to the ground before I could slide into shelter and safety. It felt like I was hit by a freight train. Her massive body slammed into mine (shoulder first) breaking several ribs and knocking the wind out of me. When we hit the ground, my head snapped onto the rocky floor and everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5: Confession

When I came to, I was bound at the ankles and wrists and something was covering my eyes.

"Ginger, cut it out!" I shouted. "What's wrong with you?! Let me go!"

She didn't say anything, but lifted the blindfold off and my vision was still blurry and dark. I must've been unconscious for several hours 'cause the sky was reddish grey which means that the sun had just set. I couldn't see much.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "You were my best friend, I would never do something to hurt you. You are obviously upset about something, just tell me what it is, talk to me, let me help you. That's what I'm here for. Maybe I don't love you as you'd want me to, but I still love you as a friend and I hope that that's been enough for you. What about all of those times that I had cheered you up when you were stuck on your past? What about those long nights under the stars? What about that necklace you're wearing right now? Do those things mean nothing to you? As your friend, I have done everything I could to make your life filled with joy and love and I figured that you would do the same things for me. But I guess I wrongly assumed that you felt the same wa-"

"SHUT UP!" she screamed. "What do you know about love?"

Without waiting for me to respond, she cut my wrist bonds and began to undress.

"Wait a sec'. Let's talk about this-" I was cut off as Ginger's tail wrapped tightly around my throat causing me to choke and cough.

"That's enough out of you. Now you're going to love me-"

"Not like this!" I tried to scream.

"Whether you want to or not." As she finished her sentence, she pulled off her shirt and jeans, completely exposing herself. Keeping me silenced with her tail, she unzipped my shorts and placed her razor-sharp maw near my member, gently kissing and licking the tip.

"If you don't, I will bite it off," she warned. "So I'd get to it if I were you."

With that, she lowered her smooth folds over my mouth and forced me to service her. I couldn't believe that this was happening, my best friend was essentially forcing me to give her an oral. I tested the waters, as it were, by slowly licking her smooth pussy all the way up and down, pausing at her clit to suckle a few times and then continue on. Her moans of pleasure were clearly audible and sweet juices began flowing out of her slit. As much as I hate to admit it, she tasted amazing. It had a mildly sweet flavor to it and it made me incredibly hard. I decided that it would be best if I wore her out as much as possible so as to increase my chances of escape, so I took it slowly. I worked my way up and down her folds, sometimes inserting my tongue into her flesh and toying at her entrance with my fingers. It occurred to me that I might as well get some payback for that tackle and my busted ribs, so without warning, I shoved three of my fingers as deep as they could go into her fleshy folds, making her cry out in pain and pleasure. Juices poured out of her. Apparently, she liked things a bit on the rougher side. I slammed my fingers in and out of her cunt, scraping her walls with my fingertips and listening to her lust-filled moans. I continued on like this for quite some time until she began to pant louder and her hips began thrusting into my fingers, begging me to finish her off. I stopped and she groaned. I wanted to make sure that she was going to suffer through this. Her body was screaming at her to reach her climax, but I simply let her be, enjoying her pangs of discomfort and need.

"This is what you get," I thought to myself. "Ready for another surprise?"

I clenched my right hand into a fist and placed it at the entrance of her soaking muff. With my other hand, I rubbed a little bit of her juice around her puckered tailhole and pointed three fingers to her opening. This was going to hurt like a bitch. And I simultaneously penetrated her two holes, making her scream so loud it echoed through the trees, her back arched in pain, but she didn't seem to get mad, it was as if she were enjoying her "punishment". I pushed my hands in as far as I could make them, though both her vents were pretty tight to begin with, her muscles were contracting as she got close to her climax squeezing my hands even more. She was so tight, I could only wriggle my hands inside her. Her breathing grew hard and her face was heavily blushed, her nipples were red and trails of milk were flowing out. Finally, she screamed and arched her back, her arms clamped down on my legs and her pussy and ass sealed my hands inside her. Juices shot out of her and milk sprayed from her supple breasts. I was so deep inside her and she was so sensitive that when I yanked my hands free of her grasp, she screamed and came again, all over my chest, soaking my shirt.

She gazed back at me with a look of lust and sheer rage.

"Do that again, and I'll rip your balls off," she snarled at me.

And with that, she raised her fist and in one punch, put me back out.

When I came back, again, I noticed that it was morning, my ankles were freed, and I wasn't wearing anything except the remnants of my ripped shorts. Why was she going through all this? She had never tried to hurt me in the past, albeit she often did so on accident, but this was different. Then it occurred to me: she was doing to me what her "master" had done to her. I gotta get away from her and make it back to my truck. She'll probably be able to find her way back home, and hopefully by that time, she would be her normal self again.

The knots on my wrists were re-tied, but not very tight, and I figured that I could just walk back to the camp and cut them off me. However, when I sat up, I realized why Ginger had let my ankles loose, my left ankle was purple and puffy and twisted off at a weird angle. I don't recall having done that while running away... She must've broken it after I "talked" with her last night. She was probably figuring that I would try to escape.

"Oh well," I sighed. "Looks like I'm not going anywhere too soon."

"Excellent observation," a familiar voice said behind me. "I knew you'd try to run away from me again, so I made sure you couldn't."

I was silent for a while, then tears began welling up in my eyes as I shook my head slowly.

"What happened to you?" I asked, voice trembling (both out of fear and grief). "What you did last night was so unlike you. You used to be so compassionate and caring and fun. You were the greatest person I had come to know, and look at yourself now. What did I do to you to make you like this? What can I do to make it right?"

"Nothing!" she yelled. "You made me feel, for the first time in my life, that I belonged and that I was loved. But you really didn't love me, you just pretended to like me for whatever cruel reason you had and you screwed around with my emotions to make me like this. YOU did this to me!"

"What do you mean 'I pretended to love you'? I never stopped loving you from the moment I met you and took you home."

"But did you love me as a friend or something more? That's all I need to know."

"I've already told you that I thought of you as a friend. Why -"

"No! Don't give me that shit! What do you actually feel for me? I know you love me more than you've been telling me."

I didn't respond immediately. She was right, and I realized that it was, in fact, my fault. I had been sending her mixed messages, and it toyed with her heart. I have to fix this, whether or not I like how it will turn out.

"My feelings towards you never changed, I loved you. Plain and simple. I still do. However, I figured that since you relied on me as a caretaker, you loved me as a form of compensation for the care I had given, nothing more, so I have been trying to keep myself in check."

"Oh really?" she said with a look of disbelief.

"Just let me finish, okay? You want the truth so I'm giving it to you. I've been infatuated with you for months. I could never think of going back to my life without you. But when I was told by my coworkers that you were just showing affection because I was taking care of you, I hit a wall. The thought never occurred to me, and at first I couldn't believe that it was true, but then it started to eat away at me. I began to emotionally separate myself from you, fearing that I would lose you if I tried to make any advances." I stopped. Memories of the tragic crash and heart-wrenching funeral barraged my mind all at once. "I- I couldn't lose the woman I... loved, not again. Not again..." my head, resting on my arms which were wrapped around my knees, gently shook with quiet sobs. I could hear Ginger's steps as she lumbered slowly over to me. She sat down behind me, legs outstretched, and pulled me towards her chest, hugging me warmly from behind. She turned me towards her and I looked up slowly to find tears welling up in her eyes. She gently kissed me and held me in an embrace. Quietly she sobbed, "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean- I didn't know-"

I had forgotten about my busted ankle, so when I tried to stand up, I crumpled right back down. I pulled myself up and sat there, eyes still red, gazing up at Ginger who had come to my side when I fell.

"Are you alright?" Ginger asked, worry scrawled across her face.

"Yeah, I'll be fine, I'm just going to need to take it slow."

She nodded and then bit her lip and lowered her gaze to her feet.

"You- you're not going to leave me are you?" she asked, her voice wavering. Then quietly: "Please don't leave me..."

I looked into her eyes and smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."

She beamed a toothy smile, picked me up in a swinging embrace, and smothered me in kisses. I laughed and smiled back. She paused, looked down at me, and I at her and we both knew that what had happened was over and we'd best forget it and move on, and we did.

Ginger lifted me into her arms and carried me back to the camp. We didn't say much, we just enjoyed that the ordeal was over and that we were together.

That night, we sat and talked about where to go next and what places to explore on our future trips, and after dinner, I decided to introduce Ginger to s'mores.

"What's a s'more?"

"They're just chocolate, toasted marshmallow, and graham cracker but they taste amazing. Wanna try?"

"Sure," she hesitantly replied.

I handed her a stick and the bag of puffy white mallows and she began roasting them alongside mine.

"I remember doing this with my folks all the time," I reminisced. "You should've met them, they were always looking on the bright side of things, always urging myself and my siblings to do our best, never were they harsh towards us, and whenever they could, they'd take us to picturesque vistas across the country and sometimes across the globe."

"What happened to them?"

"Oh, they're still around," I said, my eyes were fixed on the fire as painful memories returned. "My family and I have not been together since my wife died, they believe that her death was my fault, and perhaps it was..." I trailed off.

"How could it have been your fault?" she asked.

"Well," I started. "She had epilepsy and had not yet found a way to stop her seizures and shouldn't have been driving and I could've stopped her, but we got into a fight and I wasn't thinking straight," I paused and wiped away my tears. "She left in a huff and drove off. It was late at night and she was speeding down the highway when she passed out and veered into oncoming traffic. I was told that since she was already unconscious, she didn't feel any pain," tears were streaming down my face and Ginger had moved over to me and set me down in her lap, hugging me and comforting me as I sobbed out the rest of the story. "At the funeral, I gave a speech about how wonderful a woman she was and that we would all miss her dearly. But in the end, my family blamed me for her death and left me, hurting and alone. To make matters worse, one of my patients, who had the same name as you, died on me only two weeks after the funeral. Though I only knew Ginger for a brief time, I'll never forget her. Ginger was five years old and she could read big-kid books like her brother. She had the same flowing brown hair and rose-colored cheeks as my niece. Her smile was contagiously hopeful... and because of me, that smile is gone forever. It's all my fault... I lost my family, my patients, my wife..."

"You haven't lost me," Ginger chimed in. "And you never will. I'll always be by your side."

Still crying, I hugged her tightly saying muffled "thank you"s between sobs. She began chuckling to herself and I stopped and looked up at her.

"What are you laughing at?!"

"I'm not laughing at you," she replied with a grin. "I just thought it was funny that you're just as hopelessly sappy as I am."

"Hey," I interjected. "I'm not that sappy."

And we laughed and spent the night under the stars, cuddled up by the campfire.


	6. Chapter 6: A Love Rekindled

A few weeks had passed since then and we were beginning to get into the Christmas season. Of course, Ginger was new to this tradition so I explained it to her and when I was done, she wanted to learn more about the Christian faith so I rummaged through my library and found one of my old study bibles and gave it to her.

"Thanks! But I don't know how to read," she said with an ashamed expression.

"Oh, that's alright. I can teach you."

The days flew by at this point. I was working long hours at the hospital so that I could take two weeks off for Christmas and New Year's, and I rarely got to see Ginger except at early morning breakfasts and late at night, and whenever I did, she was always smothering me with questions about my day and begging me to help her improve her reading skills. They were long nights.

On one such night, the seventeenth of December, I came home to find dinner made, the house picked up, and a fire softly crackling in the fireplace.

"Ginger? I'm home," I called.

"I'm in the bathroom, just give me sec'," she replied.

I hung up my coat, slipped off my shoes and crashed down on the couch, warming myself by the fire; it had been a long day and a cold drive home. I must've fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Ginger was snuggling up next to me, her tail wrapped around my legs like she always does, rubbing her hand through my hair.

"Sweetie," she softly crooned.

"Mmm?" I replied groggily.

"You gotta get up. Dinner's all set and we don't want it to get cold now do we?"

"No we don't," I agreed with a grin, my eyes still closed.

I kissed her on the nose and rolled off of the couch, cracking my back as I stood up. That is when I noticed what Ginger was wearing. She left her usual uniform of jeans and a t-shirt behind in favor of a low-cut, strapless red dress (which looked oddly familiar) that show-cased her exceptional curves. It looked like she even applied a bit of makeup, her usually rough blue lips were soft and red. I noticed that as I oggled at her beauty, she looked down at the floor and blushed deeply.

"You look amazing!" I said.

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course! Where'd you find all that stuff?"

She didn't answer.

"Here," she said gesturing towards the dinner table. "I thinks it's time we eat."

Okay, I guess I will have to ask her again sometime.

"Perfect," I said. "What's for dinner?"

"Oh nothing too fancy," she replied nonchalantly. "Just some seared fresh-caught salmon with a maple-walnut glaze, a spinach salad with bleu cheese, dried cherries, with some pears and a light vinaigrette, and for desert: crème brûlée with fresh berries."

"Wow. How'd you put all of this together?"

She smiled and grew a little red.

"I caught the salmon this morning while you were at work. The spinach, and the rest of the ingredients in the salad, we had just bought at the market and all the crème brûlée needed was some fresh strawberries, which are hard to find in Michigan right now, so I swam a few hundred miles south and snagged a handful from a small farm." She was beaming at me, obviously proud of her achievements.

"Wow. That's actually really impressive" I said. "I didn't even know you could swim, let alone swim that fast. Also how were you able to make all of this without being able to read any of the recipes?"

"Interesting you should mention that, I can read well enough, but I didn't need to tonight. That's another thing you haven't really known about me. I learn from watching others. So whenever I watched you cook, I was memorizing your every move, I took note of what ingredients would go with others and which ingredients were best left out of a dish. I didn't need a single recipe for tonight's dinner."

"I'm so proud of you, Ginger! This is really extraordinary. Now if you dot mind me asking, what is all of this for?"

"You haven't actually forgotten have you?"

My blank gaze answered that question.

"It's your birthday!"

"Oh!" I said, laughing at myself. "I can't believe I missed it. I guess I had been working so hard that I'd forgotten what day it was."

"That's alright," Ginger said with a smirk. "You are getting to an advanced age and memory loss is quite common among you older folks."

"Hey," I said with a chuckle. "That's not fair. Remember: I am only seven years your senior. Now, I'm starving. Can we eat?"

"Sure!" she replied and served up the meal.

Dinner went without a hitch, the food was prepared perfectly and both of us were quite full by the end. We cleared the table, I finished up cleaning the dishes while Ginger relaxed on the couch, and I joined her by the fire, resting beside her warm body, my head against her chest, her arms wrapped snug around me. We were enjoying the warmth and the peace of the evening when Ginger sprang up from the couch, making me fall to the ground in a heap.

"Ow," I mumbled, face firmly planted into the rug.

"I almost forgot your presents!"

"No, Ginger, you didn't have to get me anything," I said as I picked myself up. "The dinner was incredible, let's just relax here together."

"I can't do that, silly, I've already wrapped them up and it wouldn't be a birthday without presents."

She quickly dashed to her room and returned with her hands behind her back, a sly grin on her face, and her tail mischievously swaying back and forth.

"Happy birthday, Maron!" she said as she sat down next to me and handed me a small box with a handwritten note attached.

"Thank you, Ginger. I really appreciate this!"

"You haven't even opened it yet!"

"I know," I admitted. "It's just nice to have someone who cares for me like you do."

There was a brief but tense pause as we both sought for something else to say before I decided to move on to the gift-wrapped box.

I lifted off the note and opened it up to find the writing messy, but legible, and inside it read:

My dearest Maron,

No one can ask for a better partner than you! I have loved our time so far together and I anxiously await our future adventures.

Love, your much younger (not to mention better-looking than you) land-shark,

Me.

P.S. I hope you don't mind, I borrowed your wife's old dress for tonight. I hope I look as beautiful as she did when she wore it.

That last line stuck in my head.

I was silent for a moment as more memories flooded my brain with pain and anguish; a single tear rolled down my face and Ginger reached out and brushed it away.

"Thank you..." I said quietly. "You really do look beautiful in that dress."

She smiled and said, "Well are you going to open it or just stare at it?!"

I tore off the blue wrapping paper to find the same box that I had placed Ginger's necklace in. "Uh-oh," I thought. "This is gonna make me cry."

Inside was a necklace, similar to Ginger's but with heavier chains. It was silver and on it there was a simple silver heart. On the back, there was a small inscription which read:

I'm Forever Yours,

G

I was merely sniffling by the time I had gotten through the letter, but now I was tearing up. Ginger came over to me and lifted her steel leg, her foot resting on the table. Around her ankle, there was the same necklace and heart pendant, the silver shining along with the steel of her leg.

"They're a matching pair," she said. "Yours has the inscription on it, but other than that they are exactly the same, and I made sure that these two were the only ones made." She stopped and looked down at me.

I just looked up at her.

"We'll always be together," she said. "Even when we're apart."

"I- You are... so... perfect! Thank- *snf* thank you!"

I pulled her down on top of me and kissed her surprised lips.

"Right," she said, as she stood up and walked back towards her bedroom. "I'd best be getting some sleep, and you should too. It's one in the morning and you've got to work in seven hours."

As much as I wanted to stay up with her and cuddle the night through, she had a point: I was going to need all the sleep I could get.

We quietly went off to our own rooms and undressed, both of us thinking about the other. When she was in her PJ's, Ginger walked over to my room to find me in nothing but my boxers, still changing clothes.

"Oh!" she said with a blush. "I'm so sorry Maron! I should have knocked. I can't- I'm so sorry..." she left before I could say anything.

"I guess she must still be a little sensitive to anything sexual after our hiking trip," I thought to myself. "Hmmmm".

I threw on my silk shirt and pants and slid across the hall to Ginger's room where she lay, tail curled defensively around herself.

"Hey Ginger," I said. "Thank you again for all you did, that was really sweet of you."

"Mmm-hmm," she replied, still half-awake.

I waited in her doorway and she eyed me curiously.

"Anything else?"'she asked.

"Yeah," I responded. "I just wanted to ask you something."

"Well?" she impatiently stated.

"Do you want to- or rather - will you sleep with me tonight?" I asked, instantly regretting my word choice.

"What?!" she asked, sitting bolt upright.

"Well, I... I just thought..." I stammered. "You know, I hadn't been able to spend enough time with you, so I figured I needed to make it up to you somehow."

She looked at me with a curious expression.

"If you don't want to, that's fine," I submitted with my hands held up. "I'm going to bed regardless. G'night Ginger."

I turned and shamefully walked back to my empty bed, kicking myself for my utter failure. "She's not going to come," I thought to myself. "Not after that huge embarrassment."

And with that thought in mind, I relinquished my leaden head to the clutches of my silken pillow and was glad to finally get some rest.

Later in the evening I felt the bed move and something familiar wrap around my ankles. I murmured something like, "hey Ginger," and she simply snuggled in close and fell asleep, her massive warm body encompassing my fragile frame.


	7. Chapter 7: Speedbumps

The next morning, I woke up early and got ready to head off to the hospital. After kissing her on the forehead and whispering a goodbye, I left, leaving a note and some breakfast for Ginger when she got up.

My work day was uneventful, and by uneventful I mean that it didn't happen: I walked up to the hospital doors to find a yellow sheet of paper that read "Condemned" on it.

"The heck?" I said to myself. "When did this happen?!"

After looking around briefly, I decided to just head on home, I could job hunt his weekend.

I arrived back home around five thirty and didn't even make it to the door before I was tackled into the snow by my blue compatriot and nearly hugged to death.

"I missed you so much!" she exclaimed. "I had nothing to do all day so I basically sat around and waited for you to get back, and here you are, home early!"

"Glad to hear that you've missed me," I replied with a grin. Then, I paused and asked her, "Is it really that boring for you when I'm gone?"

"Well, yeah," she responded with a shrug. "There's really nothing for me to do here or outside of this house so I just sit and wait."

"Yikes!"

"It's not all that bad, I do get plenty of time to read and work on my writing."

"I see... Well, I've got good news and bad news, which would you rather hear first?"

"There's no such thing as good news or bad news, Maron," she scoffed with a mocking grin. "It's just news."

"Thanks for that," I replied sarcastically. "Bad news: the hospital got shut down, so I've got no job. Good news: I'll be spending much more time with you."

"AWESOME!" she squealed.

I laughed and headed inside with Ginger in tow.

"Hey, wait a second," she said once we were inside and I was warming back up by the fire. "How are you going to pay for food and all of our other things without a job?"

"Fortunately, Ginger, I have invested a lot of my earnings into bonds and stocks which have been steadily growing over the years and can allow us to lead a comfortable life if we downsized our home and moved to a more tax-free location."

"And where's that?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.

"The Cayman Islands."

"That's really far away, Maron. Won't you miss your friends and family here?"

"Not really," I answered. "I have many acquaintances, but few actual friends and my family sort of disowned me, so I won't be leaving much behind."

"Oh," she replied quietly. "Well, at least you have me!" she said with a grin, lifting me into a tight hug.

"And you're perfect!" I replied, giving her a quick kiss before she set me back down.

She looked sullenly down at her feet and grumbled at me, "I'll still have to remain hidden, though, won't I?"

"Well, not really," I replied. "You see, I have a friend of mine who owns a ton of small uninhabited islands in the Caribbean and he offered to sell me one for real cheap. The one I picked out is perfect for us: it is in the shape of a crescent with a small lagoon at its center, it is over ten miles away from the nearest island, giving us plenty of privacy, all of its seven acres of land are covered in dense palm forests, providing plenty of shade, and there's even a spring that flows out at the middle of the crescent."

"That sounds great!" she said ecstatically. After pausing briefly, she asked "But what're gonna do all day?"

"For starters," I said. "We have to build our home and get ourselves situated, but after that, I figured we could use the island as our dock of sorts and go sailing from island to island or to Mexico or Panama or even parts of Europe - just go visit new cool places."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked impatiently. "I'm not like you. I don't blend in well in a crowd of people. I would scare the crap out of them. Chances are, I would end up getting taken to a government facility and experimented on like you said I would." She turned her gaze back down, obviously feeling depressed.

I placed my hands on her smooth hips and she looked up.

"I won't let that happen," I replied. "No one else is going to lay a finger on you while there's still breath in my body."

"Aaaw," she said with a wry smile. "You sound so romantically-cheesy."

I chuckled. "I meant what I said," I answered. "You are the most important person in my life, I couldn't bear to lose you."

"Well then, it's settled. We're gonna move to our own private island ... where no one will be able to hear your cries for help!" she added with a fake malicious grin and a laugh.

"That was actually pretty scary," I said, smiling at her. "You almost sounded believable."

"Thanks," she replied nonchalantly. "I try."

"Right. I'm going to go make a couple calls to my contact and my travel agent."

"What about your family? Aren't you going to at least say goodbye or something?"

"Your have a point, I probably should let them know in case they want to send me more hate mail or maybe an apology letter," I sighed. "In that case, will you be alright having dinner without me, I'm going to have a lot of explaining and arguing to do."

"Sure," she answered. "Let me know if you need anything." She hugged me and kissed my forehead and left for her room.

"This'll be interesting," I said sarcastically. "I'm not sure how well my folks will take it when I tell them that I'll be leaving the country to go to sailing in the Caribbean with a half-ton anthro land-shark, with whom I have fallen in love and with whom I am planning on getting married. Who am I kidding, they'll understand completely." I said, fearing the worst.


	8. Chapter 8: Aria

It was four hours later that my family hung up on me. As luck would have it, they were all visiting my grandparents when I called so everyone gathered around and they put me on speaker phone. It didn't go well.

Apparently, they feel that I am making up stories to try to win their forgiveness. Even after I sent them photos of Ginger and I hiking, snowboarding, and told them about how we found each other and how much we loved one another, they still claimed it was a hoax, believing that I forced Ginger to stay with me once I fixed her up. *sigh* At least I tried.

My calls to Dave Short in G.C. and Myles Dawson over at Southwest went much better. I was able to secure the island for much cheaper than I thought possible and Dave even threw in some contacts of his who'd be happy to sell us one of their sailboats once we're down there. The flight would be a little more difficult, Myles told me, as few of the islands down there actually had runways big enough to fit a jet plane. So, I was faced with another dilemma: either we could drive down and rent a boat to get us there, or we could fly down to Florida then take a boat across the Caribbean to G.C. (which would be the easiest choice), or I could get my pilot's license, buy a seaplane, and take myself, Ginger, and most of our belongings almost directly to our island home.

I always wanted to be a pilot.

One month, and countless hours of flight-training, later, it was an early, cold, Monday morning in January.

"Are you sure you know how to fly this thing?" Ginger asked as she wearily climbed aboard, several bags of clothes and other belongings clenched in her hands.

"Absolutely!" I replied. "I haven't taken a month of training for nothing."

"Okay," she said as she sat down in the copilot chair, shaking slightly.

I laughed at her and she returned with a glare and a "humph", then crossed her arms and stared ahead.

The 2007 Dornier Seastar was a beautiful two-engine amphibious plane that could comfortably seat eight passengers and two pilots as well as a large amount of luggage or other supplies. She could top out at about 250 MPH and carried enough fuel to last us until Florida. Everything had gone perfectly according to plan, maybe even better: when we sold the house, property, and car, we had more than enough money to buy the Seastar and the island, leaving us some extra cash to use to build our humble abode once we arrived.

What neither Ginger nor I planned on was a stowaway.

...

A dark shape struggled for space in the back of the plane; her not-too muscular limbs fought against the duffels.

"It's so cramped in here," I thought. "I can't believe I was actually able to fit. I hope they didn't hear me when I snuck into the cargo hold, if they find me, I'm screwed."

I continued to struggle as I heard the engines start up.

"At least we're moving no-"

I cut myself off when I heard the engines stop and heavy footsteps slowly approaching the cargo hatch.

"OH NO!" I screamed in my mind. "I'M DEAD!"

I drew my arms and knees up to defend myself against the incoming attack, my head was buried in my arms, expecting the worst when the hatch opened and a blinding light shone through.

"Well hi there!" An unthreatening voice said.

All I could see was a shadowy outline of his figure as my eyes had not adjusted to the sudden change in light.

"It's alright to come out," the figure said. "We're not gonna hurt you."

"Well," a new voice this time, more feminine than the first. "You couldn't hurt it even if you tried."

"Ginger," the first figure said to the other. "Not helping."

Confused, I looked around until I saw another figure standing behind the first one. Slowly, my vision came back and I saw that the first voice belonged to a very tall human male who had shaggy brown hair that was pulled back into a black bandanna, bright green eyes, and was wearing jeans, a pair of heavy black boots, a plain t-shirt and an aviator's jacket. The other voice "Ginger" was kind of a mix of species: she looked to be part shark and part human, but all dangerous. The multiple spikes, sharp teeth, and claws made her into a formidable threat, and the human must have sensed my fear because he knelt down, reached out and touched my shoulder saying,

"It's okay, she won't hurt you, I promise." He continued on, "By the way, my name's Maron, and that's Ginger. What's your name?"

I looked up at him, and cautiously spoke.

"Aria," her voice was soft and melodic. "My name's Aria."

...

"Well, Aria," I said with a contagious smile. "Welcome aboard!

She smiled back.

I helped her up and led her over to a seat near the front of the plane. On the way there, I tried to keep myself from staring at her strange form.

She (Aria), and I am pretty sure it is a "she" on account of her feminine voice, large breasts, and voluptuous hips, was similar to Ginger in that she seemed to be a hybrid between a human and some sea creature, but she wasn't part shark. Rather, Aria had characteristics of a dolphin or an orca. Her grey skin appeared smooth and she had several black stripes running down her back, legs, and arms. She had an elongated face similar to that of a bottle nose dolphin, and I noticed that her eyes were a brilliant bright blue and incredibly entrancing. An odd bit about Aria was that she had silver ring piercings on her nipples, her tail fins, her navel, and a black heart-shaped tattoo near her waistline. Huh. Another thing I noticed was that she was freezing. She was not wearing anything on top, and only a beat up pair of sweat pants covered her legs, her tail hung out over the waistband.

"You must be freezing," I said as I rushed over to her with several blankets, she blushed and looked down as I wrapped my arms around her. "Here, take these and let me know if you need anything else." I turned and addressed Ginger, "You don't mind giving her some of your clothes, do you? She's gonna need them for the trip, it can get a little chilly in here."

I left for the cockpit and restarted the engines.

Ginger looked Aria over and finally grumbled a "fine" and rummaged through her bags, handing Aria some jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a hoodie.

"Thank you," Aria said, heading towards the back of the plane to change.

"You don't need to head back there again," Ginger said. "You can just change here, Maron won't mind, nor will he be able to see back here anyways, the cockpit doors are closed."

"Oh, I know," she blushed heavily this time. "I... I just don't want to change... in front of you."

"Why? What do you have to hide? I've seen all of that "stuff" before on myself, I really don't care if I see yours."

"Sorry," she replied, continuing on towards the bathroom. "But I do care."

Ginger was already peeved at the arrival of another helpless victim as she knew that I'd help Aria and that would mean that Ginger would have to compete for my attention.(Of course, I was taking off at this point and was completely unaware of what was going on back there.) To make matters worse for Ginger, Aria was much more gentle and human-looking than herself and she figured that that too was a threat to her relationship with me. So to "retaliate", as soon as Aria turned her back on Ginger, Ginger reached out and ripped off Aria's pants and immediately blushed at what she saw as Aria shrieked and ran behind a seat to cover herself.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" Aria shouted.

Ginger didn't respond, she simply stood there, blushing and awestruck.

Aria took this moment to quickly change into the clothes Ginger gave her.

By this time, I had made it up to cruising altitude and put the plane on autopilot as I turned to check on the girls, having heard the ruckus.

"What's going on?" I asked as I walked up to Ginger's statuesque form.

"She pantsed me!" Aria answered as she rose from behind the seat where she was changing. "And I didn't do anything to her!"

"Huh," I thought. "That's a little forward for Ginger. Normally she would just tackle or trip whoever was bugging her. I'll have to have a little chat with her about this, but not right now."

"Oh, she's just playing with you," I lied. "She likes to mess with people, she does it to me all the time, it's how she shows affection."

"Freakin' strange way of showing affection!" Aria exclaimed.

"I know, but I've gotten used to it. Do you know why she's frozen like that?"

She blushed. "No idea."

She was lying to me, but I couldn't press her too hard, she might decide to leave and I would feel terrible if that were to happen.

"Well, I'll just take her back to her seat and set her down. Do you want to ride up front with me? The chairs are much more comfortable."

"S-sure," she replied with a shy grin.

I set Ginger down and found that she was still in shock so I kissed her forehead and let her be, as I headed back up to the cockpit where Aria's tail was visibly swaying back and forth across the floor.

"So," I said as I plopped myself down in the pilot's chair. "Why are you on my plane? How'd you even get in my plane? Where do you come from? Do you have any family? How old are you? Why leave wherever you were? Why come to me?"

"Great," she said, sarcastically. "I love questions. Well, I ran away from my previous owner because he neglected me and he became disgusted in me as I grew older for... certain reasons. I am about twenty-three years old, I'm not really sure. I never knew my parents, or even if I have parents. I have no family nor any friends but I knew that if I could find you, I might be able to find safety."

"How did you know that? Why were you afraid to come out and see me directly? Why hide?"

"I figured that you would find me just as disgusting as my previous owner did, and I was afraid that you would kick me out if you saw me." She dropped her head and turned away.

"Why would I think you're disgusting? You are a beautiful woman," I assured her as I lifted her chin up so we were seeing eye-to-eye. "And no one ought to think of you as anything else."

She smiled at me and continued on.

"I knew you could help me because I had briefly talked with your friend, Ginger, when she came down to steal some of my owner's crops."

"Wait," I said. "Where are you from?"

"I grew up on a strawberry farm near the Mississippi River in northern Missouri. Why?"

"Ginger never told me that she met you."

"I can guess why," she said, looking dejected again.

"Why might that be?"

"Well, I didn't really talk to her... I sort of just... read her thoughts."

"What?!" I exclaimed. "You can read minds!?"

"Yeah, kind of," she shrugged. "That and a few other things..."

"Okay," I said, bracing myself. "Read my mind."

"I don't think you want me to," she warned. "If I read your mind, my thoughts and your thoughts are shared between us and our memories are instantly synchronized, allowing you to see all of my past and me to see all of yours. When I did this to Ginger it was only out of desperation, I needed to find another home, and I guess my memories weren't something Ginger wanted to have so she forced me to take them back from her. I have only done that once, as it causes extreme pain to both parties, but it worked. Ginger forgot having ever met me, and I lost the few bits of information I had about your location which is why it took me over a month to find you."

"Ah," I said.

"Thankfully, I still had snippets of memories that would resurface now and then in my dreams but I wasn't able to put everything back together until one week ago. That week, I succeeded in leaving my owner, but it came with a price..."

"And what might that have been, if you don't mind me asking?"

She turned around and pulled her hoodie up and over her head and set it on the ground, exposing her back. What I saw made me gasp. All over her back were scars that looked to be from knives and whips. The scars continued on down past her lower back and seemed to continue down her legs, but I couldn't tell for sure. I turned my gaze back upward to find something I hadn't noticed before: right between her shoulder blades, there was a large vertical gash that seemed perfectly straight, too straight to be done with a whip.

"What happened there?" I asked.

"That was the worst of it," she said. "He wanted to make sure that I would never be able to escape down the river, so when I was caught making my way towards the riverbed ashort while ago, he grabbed me, pinned me down on the ground, and using his old army knife, he hacked off my dorsal fin and one of my tail fins. I was left alone in the field, bleeding and crying, with no one to help me. Thankfully, Ginger came across me and helped me wash off my wounds. If it wasn't for her, I probably would have died out there." She paused. "So that's my story, kinda depressing right?"

I looked at her, tears in my eyes. I felt so bad for her, she didn't deserve such cruel treatment, but there is nothing I can do to fix it, except...

I leaned over towards her and kissed her surprised lips. She let out a soft cry of shock, but soon melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around me, pulling me in, her tongue begging for entrance to my mouth. I opened my lips and let her in, her tongue wrestling mine. She began to moan softly and I took that as my cue to pull back.

She looked up at me, a raging blush on her face, a sweet, seductive look in her eyes.

"Thank you," she said softly. "No one's ever done that to me so sweetly."

"I couldn't believe what had happened to you," I said. "I needed to let you know that you are safe here and that you will be, and are, loved, and that you are more than welcome to stay with me. Would you like to?"

She responded to my offer by walking over to me, sitting in my lap, and sharing another kiss. I kept my eyes open this time and was enjoying the moment when something below caught my eyes.

There was a bulge forming in Aria's pants.

I broke the kiss and pushed Aria away.

She looked at me with a confused and fearful expression on her face.

"Is something wro-?" she noticed it too and blushed. "I can explain," she started, her palms stretched out to me, trying to keep me from freaking out.

"YOU- YOU HAVE A COCK?!"

*sigh* "Yeah," she said plainly, her goals for a subtle explanation completely wrecked.

"WHEN WERE YOU PLANNING ON TELLING ME?!"

"Well I didn't think that you'd still want me after you found out, so I was just going to keep it hidden from you. That's what happened with my old owner. I hit puberty and strange things were happening to me. I managed to hide it for several months, but he eventually found out and threatened to kick me out. I had nowhere else to go, so I told him that I would do whatever I could to make it up to him, but the only option for me was to accept his beatings and abusive behavior without any struggles. He'd whip me, beat me, cut me, I was his toy, completely disposable. After so many years of it, I began to feel like that's all I was, just a possession..." She trailed off and looked down at her feet. "Please don't do the same to me, if you don't want to keep me, then just drop me out of the plane, I wouldn't be able to go on living alone."

She paused and I just sat there, mouth agape, wondering what to say, lost in her words.

Aria started to cry. She stood up, kissed my stunned mouth, and walked out of the cockpit towards the exit.

I didn't notice what she was doing until she spoke again.

"Thanks again for the kiss," she said with a hopeless expression, her hand on the latch.

I snapped back to reality and sat up. Everything went in slow motion.

My feet began to race towards her.

She gave one last look at me and turned the latch.

I was screaming "nooo" at her while speeding up.

She turned away from me and opened the door.

...

I remember seeing Aria's form about to leave the plane to go on a one-way express route to the ground floor when a large blue blur slammed the door shut and threw her back. I was still sprinting towards her and was unable to slow down in time, so I collided with her, tackling Aria and pinning her on the floor.

She was crying beneath me.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Y-yes," she sobbed.

Ginger turned towards her and scoffed. "What the hell were you thinking?!" she asked. "You could've gotten all of us sucked out of this plane!"

Aria looked up at her with a guilty expression and a mumbled "sorry".

"Thank-" Aria's voice caught. "Thank you for ... I'm- I'm so sorry!" She was a mess.

"Now don't think that this changes anything between us, though, you still gross me out." Before she turned and walked back to her seat, Ginger quickly added, "But I couldn't let you go like that, Maron cares for you and I guess I gotta respect that."

"Lovely, Ginger," I said. Then I got up and took her aside, "Thank you for doing that, I'm not sure I would've made it in time."

Ginger smiled at me and gave me a hug before heading off alone.

I turned my attention back to the whimpering mess on the floor.

"Why would you do that?" I asked Aria, kneeling down to help her up into a nearby seat. "Your life is worth so much, don't just throw it away."

"But I saw how you reacted," she sobbed. "It was the same way for my owner and for Ginger and for anyone else that knew the truth about me. The pain was just too much."

"You just gave us a shock is all. And we all have times in our lives where we are faced with sorrow and pain, but we ought to choose to move on from it. Ginger came from an abusive family where her life was at risk every day. I lost my wife to a horrible car crash and now everyone I know and love, blames me. On top of that, I was unable to save a very young patient of mine who had barely made it to half a decade before dying in front of me. We all have pain in our lives, especially the three of us, but we do have each other, and we can rely on one another for help and support. We are like a family, albeit one very unorthodox family, but a family nonetheless."

"I've n-never really had a- a family bef-fore," she sobbed.

I stopped and gazed at Aria's glistening, sapphire-blue eyes.

"Please," I started, resting my hands on her trembling shoulders. "Please don't ever scare me like that again. You and Ginger are both very important to me and I couldn't stand losing you. Understand?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded.

"C'mere," I said, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I love you so very much, Aria, and though we've only known each other for a short while, I want you to know that you'll forever hold a place in my heart."

She just squeezed me harder and cried softly into my shoulder.

"It'll be alright," I comforted her. "It'll all be alright, I promise. We'll get to the island, start building our home, and everything will work out just fine."

Then again, not everything turns out according to plan.


	9. Chapter 9: Miami

Aria sat in my lap and Ginger contentedly stayed in the copilot's chair for the rest of the flight to Florida. We didn't say much, but at least we (and I mean Ginger and Aria) weren't fighting.

I told them to go head back to their seats as I was beginning to descend and would he landing soon. Reluctantly, they trudged back and strapped in as I began to line myself up with the stark white lines on the runway.

"Radio tower," I said into my headset. "This is Star 119, checking in."

"Star 119, this is radio tower, we read you loud and clear. Lane four is open and waiting, you may begin your approach."

"Roger, tower."

I dropped the landing gear and began to ease the plane down towards the narrow strip of asphalt that was lit up by the noonday sun.

I eased back on the throttle and adjusted my flaps to enable a smooth, slow landing.

Speaking over the intercom, I alerted the girls. "Attention, this is your captain speaking. We will be making our landing shortly and I advise you to stay seated until the plane has come to a complete stop," I hesitated. "We know you have no choice whatsoever, but thanks again for choosing Air-Gretsky."

Muffled giggles sounded through the cockpit doors.

We landed and I eased the plain up to the refueling station. The man attending the station told me it would be several hours to completely refuel, and he recommended that I head into town and perhaps down to the beach, it was beautiful weather. So I thanked him and headed back into the plane to gather my crew.

"Girls," I announced. "It's gonna be a while for the plane to fill back up, so I figured we could go grab some food real quick and then spend the rest of the time down at the beach. Sound okay to you?"

I was met with resounding silence.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's just that, well..." Ginger started. "We've never been out in public before."

"Oh it'll be fine," I reassured them. "What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," she replied defensively. "I am merely concerned about the safety of myself and Aria as some people might freak out when they see us."

"I promised you guys that I would never let anything happen to you, and you know that I'm a man of my word." I stopped and then pulled the two of them into a hug and continued. "We're a family now, and that means that we've got to look out for one another, alright?"

"Okay," Aria replied.

"I guess so," said Ginger.

"Great!" I exclaimed, breaking away from the hug. "Let's go find you guys some lighter clothes and some swimsuits."

"We- we can't just wear the clothes we already have on?" Aria stammered.

"Yeah," Ginger agreed. "What's wrong with these?"

"It is currently 85 and sunny," I explained. "You guys will burn up wearing hoodies and jeans. Besides shorts and tanks are much more comfortable and freeing. Now let's go."

I followed them out of the plane and we walked across the Tarmac up to the terminal where we'd get checked in by airport security. We avoided these guys when we left from Michigan because we took off from a airfield instead of an actual airport. However, this was going to be their first experiences of other people, and it was going to be a bit of a shocker.

We strolled in, confidently, and immediately someone screamed. Everyone's eyes swiveled menacingly towards us. Ginger was blushing out of embarrassment, but was still standing tall and proud. Aria had hidden her face in her hoodie and avoided everyone's gaze. I glared back at everyone else and pushed the girls along telling them to ignore the others.

Thankfully, none of the reactions were bad enough to have someone alert the airport police, but I was still on edge. We got to the customs desk and my hands began to shake nervously. The girls weren't carrying anything illegal, but the officials could certainly stop them and have them be searched which would most likely piss Ginger off and then things could really get out of hand.

Ginger was the first to go through the metal detectors and, obviously, she went off immediately. Her metal spikes and solid steel prosthetic leg were a bit of a deterrent. Annoyed, she rolled up her jeans and they wanded her over and over, even though I kept telling them that the spikes were part of her skeletal system and could not, physically, be removed. Eventually, they waved her through and I breathed an audible sigh of relief.

When Aria went through, the only issue was that she was wearing several piercings on her fins and on her bellybutton, which she quickly removed, and they waved her through too.

Finally, it was my turn and having removed my belt, my earring, and all of the other metal attire I had, I passed through without any issues. Thank goodness.

We gathered ourselves by the main entrance and headed off.

...

The airport was only a mile from the beach, and we had been stuck in a plane for several hours, so we decided to walk it. Surprisingly, the girls were holding themselves well and Aria would even smile and wave shyly at the people staring at her, who would then in turn smile back. Ginger was just as cold as she usually is towards strangers, but I did see her blush a little when a young girl and her mother passed by and the daughter said, "I think your eyes are pretty." That was the first time I had heard anyone ever compliment either of them, and I think it softened Ginger up a bit because she started to follow Aria's lead and tried to be friendly to the passersby. I was so proud of her for stepping outside of her defensive shell.

When we arrived at the beach, the girls and I were quite hot and we raided the nearest store for shorts and tanktops, ditching our old clothes. The sizes they offered fit me perfectly, but the girls struggled to fit in the tight shirts due to their abnormally large chests, even when they tried on the largest sizes available, the tanks were straining against their mounds and their muscular bodies. Honestly, I had no problem with this, and even the clerks were eyeing Ginger and Aria, trying to hide the bulges forming in their pants. After the girls had picked out a trunkful of clothes, we moved on to the swimsuits, and that's where the rest of the customers lost their composure.

The tanks the girls had tried on were tight, but they were nothing like the skintight bikinis that the store offered. By this time, all of the men in the store were watching as the girls tried on various combinations of tops and bottoms showing them off like a pair of runway models. Aria decided on a plain, black, surfer's tank top and a pair of blue and white flowered swim shorts which she cut a hole out of for her tail. Ginger chose something much less conservative and went with a tight, white one-piece that was mostly open on the back and front except for a thin, white strand connecting the bottom to the top. Her bikini-esque top barely covered her nipples; almost half of her cans were visible above her top. Likewise, the bottom of her suit didn't leave much to the imagination. All in all, Ginger and Aria both looked incredibly sexy, so much so, I couldn't keep myself from staring.

The clerk at the cash register was sad to see us leave, I can imagine why, and when we checked out, he offered to have our clothes delivered to the airport so that we didn't have to lug them around all day and we gratefully accepted his offer. Aria and I thanked him and were heading out when Ginger grabbed the clerk's shoulders and pulled him into a heated kiss, the poor man's face blushing heavily as Ginger held him in place.

"Ginger!" I shouted. "What are you doing?! Let's go!"

She slowly pulled away from him, flashing him a seductive grin.

"I just wanted to thank him," she replied nonchalantly, keeping eye contact with the flustered man. "After all, he did save us from carrying those heavy bags around all day."

I sighed and pulled her away, apologizing for her rude behavior.

Once we were back outside I turned to Ginger and glared at her.

"What's gotten into you?" I asked accusingly. "Lately, you haven't been yourself, and you're starting to worry me."

"You want to know what's been bothering me?" She whispered harshly, leaning towards me so that Aria couldn't hear. "She has."

"Aria has done nothing to you since you've met. Heck, she hardly talks to you or me. How could she have set you off like this?"

Ginger blushed and turned away, embarrassed, and didn't reply.

"Ginger," I asked. "Do you think that now that she's here, I won't be able to spend as much time with you? Or that I won't love you as much?"

"Kinda," she muttered.

"Is that why you kissed that man? And why you had me buy that ridiculously skimpy one-piece?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I just wanted to get your attention. I was afraid that you might like Aria more than me because she's more human-looking and she's got bigger boobs than me."

"Seriously?" I exclaimed. "Seriously? You're concerned about that? Do you really think I'm that shallow?"

She looked sheepishly over at me.

"Can you really be that selfish? Look at what's happened to the poor girl! She's been through one hell of a struggle and needs someone to take care of her. Might I lose some time with you? Yes. But it is so I can spend time with Aria, and look after her. You ought to do the same. We're a family now and that's what families do. As far as whom I like better, there's no competition. I love both of you equally, and I-"

"But you've only known her for a couple hours and you've known me for months!" She interrupted.

"That's true," I admitted. "But as you know, I love you the same now as I did when I took you home. The same goes for Aria."

"But we-"

"No buts," I cut her off. "Now let's get a move on. I wanna go swimming for a while before we have to be back at the airport at three."

"So we've got two hours," Ginger speculated. "Can we grab some food first?"

"Yeah," Aria agreed. "I'm starving."

"Sure, but let's make it quick, I'm starting to overheat."

"Oh you're such a wuss!" Ginger mocked, grinning at me as she said it.

"Glad to see you're back to your old self again, Ginger."

She snickered and the three of us ventured on.


	10. Chapter 10: Loss

We decided on a locally-owned cantina, and when we walked in, the entire restaurant stopped and stared at us.

"Hi everybody!" Aria cheerfully announced with a bright smile and an enthusiastic wave.

She got mixed smiles and muffled "hey"s back, but at least she made it seem like she was friendly.

Most of the twenty-odd-some people there were already pretty deep into their drinks so no one really bothered us as I had expected. However, as the waitress was leading us towards out booth near the bar, a man at the bar stopped me roughly with an outstretched arm. He was dressed in leather slacks and a biker jacket, the kind of outfit you'd see in action films.

"Hey, listen buddy," he slurred out. "I gots a deal for ya-"

"Not interested," I interupted, pushing past him.

He pulled me back and continued, "you let me take those two whores off of your hands and I'll let you by with only a warning this time."

I sighed and motioned for the girls to head over to the booth without me.

"Sir, I don't know you," I said calmly. "But I'd really appreciate it if you'd treat those two friends of mine with a little more respect than that."

"Oh, I see," he started as he stood up, blocking my way, hands on his hips. "We wanna be a smart-ass, do we?"

I looked back at him with contempt and irritation.

"No response," he said with mock surprise. "Well that's just plain rude." He slapped me across the face, and Ginger and Aria immediately stood up and began striding over, but it stopped them with a shake of my head.

"Uh-oh, are you're bitches gonna come protect your wimpy ass?"

"Look, I don't know what your issue with me is, pal," I began with a smirk. "I'm just here to grab some food and head out, if that's okay with you." I walked right up to him, and placed my hand on his shoulder, a mock look of compassion on my face. "Although I will sorely miss your charming appeal." I sarcastically patted his shoulder and I brushed past him, heading off towards our table where Aria and Ginger were watching intently. The rest of the patrons, who were also keyed in on my conversation, avoided my gaze and went back to their drinks.

The biker didn't give us any more issues for the rest of our meal, in fact, he left shortly after our little talk. Apparently, as the waitress informed me, he was the head of a large gang that operated nearby and he basically ran the place. Moreover, no one, no one, ever talks back to him because they know what he'd do if they made him upset. I started to regret my actions. A knot formed in my stomach that began to tighten as soon as the biker left in a huff, glaring at me and swearing: "You're dead! You hear that? You're fucking dead!" I really wish I didn't say what I did.

Ginger noticed my fearful expression and grabbed my hand, looking me in the eyes as she spoke.

"Don't worry, we won't let anything happen to you, okay?"

"Yeah," Aria chimed in. "We can take that redneck down easily!"

I nodded, eyes still filled with anxiety and worry.

"Let's go," she said. "We've only got one hour before the plane is ready to go and I want to get a decent amount of swimming in."

I nodded again and led them out of the restaurant, my thoughts occupied on all of the possible "worst-case scenarios" that now became plausible. I didn't have too much time to think about them; as soon as I stepped out into the blinding sunlight, I heard a loud bang followed by what felt like a freight train plowing over my left shin, then another thunderous explosion and my right leg was cut out from under me.

Aria and Ginger screamed and ran for cover behind a SUV, sobbing and cowering in fear.

I was laying down in a rapidly-growing pool of red. Although I was unable to feel my legs, I attempted to stand and I discovered that it would be impossible. Both of my legs had been sheered completely off from the knees down by the shotgun blasts. I couldn't move if I wanted to.

My mind began to falter as severe blood loss started taking its toll on my shredded frame. I knew I was going to pass out any second, and if the girls, or someone, didn't bandage my legs soon, I was going to bleed out. Before I lost consciousness, my attention was drawn to loud shouts and screams coming from across the street. Straining to look up: I saw the man from the bar, running towards his motorcycle, a smoking shotgun in his hand...

Two Minutes Earlier...

"Let's go," I said impatiently. "We've only got one hour before the plane is ready to go and I want to get a decent amount of swimming in."

Maron nodded slowly at me and I rolled my eyes and pulled him along.

"Enough stalling already," I thought. "I want to show off my new swimwear before we leave and Maron just keeps on picking fights with people."

Before we got to the door, however, he pushed Aria and I behind him. When he noticed our inquiring looks, he said something almost inaudible, something like: "I don't want you hurt." Aria and I looked at each other and shrugged.

I was thinking about how much fun it would be to finally get to swim in an ocean, my "native soil" as it were, when Maron opened the door, and was shot.

Right.

In.

Front.

Of.

Us.

His blood sprayed everywhere, soaking us before we ran for cover.

Once we had found safety behind a black Denali, I peered around the front of the car, staying low, to try to find the attacker. Across the street, I saw a figure dressed in black leather slacks running towards a Harley, gun in hand. I found him, and he was going to suffer for what he did.

I decided on eating him alive, but I'd have to be slow and start at his feet so that he'd experience the most amount of pain and suffering.

I roared at the top of my lungs and started for him when Aria grabbed me and held me back.

"Let him go," she said calmly. "Maron needs our help more than you need the satisfaction of revenge."

I snarled at her, and yanked my arm away, but I knew she was right. Turning my gaze downward, I realized just how bad Maron's condition was: "We need to get him to a hospital now," I thought. "Or he will die right here on the street." I knelt down and picked him up, not caring about smearing red across my chest.

Aria ran up to a random bystander and touched her hand to his temple, instantly gaining all of his thoughts and memories including where the nearest hospital was.

"This way," she directed, heading towards the center of the town. "We'd better hurry too."

By the time we got to the hospital which was over eight blocks away, Maron had come back to consciousness but was delirious with blood loss. Aria had skillfully made makeshift bandages out of Maron's shirt to stem the bleeding, but those would only buy a us little more time. We ran through the main entrance, shouting for a doctor, the nurses shrieked when they saw us walk in: two half-ton anthros caked with dried blood carrying a legless man who was gushing red through raggedy bandages.

Thankfully, though, someone rushed up to us with a stretcher and helped us ease Maron down and wheel him to the operating room. The doctor, a Mr. Griphon, asked us "who are you, and what is your relation to this man?" We told him our names and that we are close friends with Maron. He then searched Maron's pockets for his ID while telling us that he needed us to stay in the lobby while the surgeon worked on him.

"No!" Aria shouted. "We can't leave him!"

"I'm sorry," Dr. Griphon replied. "We can't allow you to be in the operating room. You'll just have to wait outside."

Dejected, Aria and I returned to the lobby where we received many strange looks from other patients. One of the nurses noticed our blood-soaked appearances and offered us some clean clothes and a quick shower. We stood up, leaving traces of blood all over the clean white of the lobby chairs.

"Thanks for the help," we said. "And sorry about the mess."

"No problem," she answered. "The showers will be down this hall, the fifth door on your right, and the scrubs will be right across the hall."

We didn't say much to each other as we showered, even though Aria's stall was right next to mine. However, I could hear muffled sobs and sniffles and it struck me then that Aria and I weren't really all that different. We both had experienced traumatic events and both needed someone to love and take care of us and our shattered hearts. Aria's ... anatomy ... may make me a little nauseous, but she is so nice and gentle and I've grown to tolerate her, and maybe even like her, more and more. Maybe what Maron told her is true: we are a family, and because of that, we have to look after each other. Then, a brooding thought passed through my mind: the one person who had shown me compassion after my incident, my one true caretaker, the only man to make me feel wanted and loved is suffering, and will suffer for the rest of his days, because of one lowlife and his gun. I can't heal Maron's legs, but I can get revenge.

"Hey Aria."

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air for a while, would you be alright here by yourself for a few hours?"

"I guess so," she replied, her voice quivering. "What are you going to do that whole time?"

"Oh, you know, just walk around the city, visit the beach," I tried my best to sound convincing as I lied through my teeth. "Do some people-watching."

"Uh-huh," Aria replied, clearly not believing my story. By now both of us had turned off the water and were drying off. "And if Maron gets out of ER before you get back?"

"Just tell him I'll be back soon. The procedure will take a while and I'm sure I'll be back before they're done."

"Alright," she shrugged. "Just don't do anything that might get us in trouble, okay?"

"What makes you think I'd get into trouble?" I replied nonchalantly.

The shower was really unnecessary: I'm gonna need another one after I'm through with my target.


End file.
